


Kagami is Not a Creeper

by Ivillpunchyouinthethroat



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: A little angst, Confused Kagami, Kagami is not a creeper, Kagami trying to understand what the hell he's feeling, Kagami-centric, M/M, Other, this kind of just turned into a ramble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 15:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4925413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivillpunchyouinthethroat/pseuds/Ivillpunchyouinthethroat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kagami really didn't like the nickname his whole basketball team and coach decided to grace him with, Bakagami was definitely not a name to be proud of; but he couldn't really complain about it all that much at the moment, considering he was pretty much proving it true.</p><p>In which Kagami stumbles on a small little rendezvous between the previous shadow and light of Teiko and proceeds to be very confused at what unfolds before him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kagami is Not a Creeper

**Author's Note:**

> So I think there is some canon information of Kuroko's mother out there on the internet but I wrote this before I figured out that was a thing. Any descriptions of her are purely my own conjecture. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Kagami, felt like an idiot.

No, he didn’t just feel like an idiot, he _was_ an idiot. At the moment, even he could recognize that.

There was a reason, after all, that he only halfheartedly discredited the nickname Bakagami sometimes. He was pretty sure that _one_ of those reasons was exactly why he was standing at the corner of the building he was currently hiding (creeping) behind and observing (stalking) two certain blue haired teenagers at the old run down basketball court across the street.

But if Kagami had to try to come up with an excuse it would have looked something like this: there was a Maji burger a few doors up the street which he had just exited, mind you, on the way to the basketball court currently occupied by a tall, dark skinned beast and a much, much too pale self-proclaimed shadow that really should have been called a ghost instead.

If Kagami had any shame left he would have just turned around and walked back up the way he came (no matter that it was in the complete opposite direction of his apartment and that the fastest way to get home was across the park the basketball court resided in) and given them the privacy he was pretty sure they were aiming for.

However that was an option that he would have taken only if he did indeed have an inkling of shame left in his over-sized body.

Which he didn’t, apparently, because he found himself checking the street for cars before hurriedly crossing it in the direction of the basketball court.

Not to join in on whatever little rendezvous the previous light and shadow of Teiko had going on but instead to the rickety old bench on the opposite end of the park. A bench that was oh so conveniently located behind some foliage that blocked it from two specific pairs of eyes. Kagami would know, he had played at this out of the way and usually always empty court enough times when he was troubled and seeking the solace that only the lone thumping of a basketball on pavement could bring.

And as he hastily ducked behind the concealing wall of nature, he once again thought,

_I really am an idiot….._

_….and a creeper,_ he added as an afterthought, because only a creeper would sit and observe (stalk) a friend and a rival while they had a funny little meeting that seemed to consists mostly of shooting some lazy hoops as they talked.

_And what the hell, Kuroko isn’t even using his phantom shot, he’s totally failing._

The motive behind Kuroko missing every shot he made soon became apparent however. The way the two ex-teammates seemed to totally _not_ be paying attention to the ball they half-assedly threw towards the hoop made it very clear that whatever they were talking about was the main reason they were there.

Which brought Kagami back to the some of the reasons _he_ was here, besides the fact that he was acting like his nickname (and a creeper).

The reason being that it was a Friday.

A Friday evening, to be exact, an evening in which the twilight was already beginning to darken into night.  

It was a Friday evening where if all would have gone like it had usually gone for the past oh, he didn’t know, _school year_ ; he should have been the one with Kuroko at a basketball court. Not this specific basketball court, but the court they always played at which also happened to be a considerable ways away from this one.

The court that they played at every Friday.

Every Friday.

Every FR-

Kagami forcibly stopped his thoughts right there, because even those were starting to wander uneasily into creeper territory….

But what the fuck! This was their tradition! And excuse him for wanting to know why Kuroko was promptly giving the middle finger to said tradition in favor of playing some (really) half assed ball with a dark haired idiot.

Okay, an idiot that apparently had meant a lot to Kuroko as kids, an idiot that Kagami had even helped Kuroko bring back to his senses because who even says shit like “The only who can beat me is me” with a straight face.

Aomine fucking Daiki that’s who.

Anyways, it wasn’t so much that Kuroko had said no when he had met Kagami after practice like he always did outside the Seirin gym. It was the fact that he had outright lied to him about it, informing him in his unique formal tone that he had some errands to run for his mother the rest of the day and therefore wouldn’t be able to join in him in the afternoon.  

He could have just said he was meeting up with Aomine and it would have been _completely_ fine, he honestly wouldn’t have even been surprised. As far as Kagami knew they hadn’t had a chance to _really_ talk after their last game against Touou (their impromptu shooting lessons not counting since those had solely been focused on improving Kuroko’s shooting skills for the next game and nothing else).

And Kagami knew they had A LOT to talk about still, considering the fact that in that game Aomine had looked like he had been run over by a bulldozer and then some when Kagami had scored that last basket. He had spent a while just staring off into space with a look so lost only to turn around and finally face Kagami holding on to a barely standing Kuroko with so many emotions swimming behind his eyes as they flickered between pale blue and red that Kagami couldn’t quite place them all, but which ended with a final glance at Kuroko before training his eyes to the ground as his expression settled on a single emotion—that again fuck if Kagami knew--but that was something a lot…..gentler….than he could have _ever_ pictured coming from Aomine.

Sure, their “final” fist-bump had been a sort of closure, but to Kagami it had also seemed like the opening of a door, because now that Kuroko had managed to get through to Aomine—like Kagami had never had a doubt he would—and now that Aomine wasn’t being a (complete) dick, Kagami got the feeling Kuroko and Aomine were going to be seeing a lot more of each other.

A fact that was being proven before Kagami’s eyes.

And it’s not like Kagami had a problem with that really, he had his own situation with Tatsuya after all so he liked to think that he understood whatever was between Kuroko and Aomine, and he knew that if Tatsuya had ever called him up to play some basketball like they used to he would have jumped at the chance…….

But still, Kuroko could have said something!

......Right?

 They’d started their Friday tradition about a month into school, only a little after Kuroko had proclaimed to Kagami in all his certainty that he would make him the best player in all of Japan.

Kagami let out a huff, did tradition mean nothing to his pale haired friend!

And here he knew he was just being dramatic, but fuck it. Besides, he wasn’t really exaggerating _all_ that much about the whole tradition thing.

Ever since the one time that he had been invited to Kuroko’s house courtesy of Kuroko telling his mother that Kagami, in fact, lived alone, and then his mother thinking something along the lines of “Poor child, he must be starved (and possibly wallowing in this own filth)!” because the only example of a teenage boy she had was Kuroko, and Kuroko, as Kagami had come to find out at said dinner, couldn’t cook for shit, forgot to feed himself half the time if his mother wasn’t there to remind him, was horrible at picking up around the house (though not so much his room, that was kept relatively tidy), and who’s only domestic life skill (no really, his mother had made sure to reiterate that point) was doing his own laundry. And that was only after he had almost broken his washer the first time he used it because he had ended up putting waaaaaay too much detergent in the damn thing and it had almost broken down due to the ridiculous amount of suds.

So as soon as Kagami had walked in the door, carrying a pot full of his own curry along with him, (because it was only fair that he bring something considering how much he was probably going to eat) and as soon as Kuroko mother had tasted said curry, then assaulted the poor redhead about his living habits and found out that he could actually take care of himself, not like Ramen out of a box take care of himself, but actually cook meals from scratch, keep his apartment clean, and generally live a healthy lifestyle….well, that was all it had taken for mama Kuroko to decide that she really liked Kagami.

Like, _really_ liked him.

To the point that their Friday tradition—that  had up until then consisted of dragging their sorry asses to the nearest Maji burger after a particularly grueling practice ( because Coach seemed to have the idea that Fridays could be used as the day in which damn near killed them, since in her mind, there was no school to worry about the next day and therefore waking up to sore muscles that barely let them walk was really a non-issue ) ordering a mountain of burgers for Kagami and _a_ shake, maybe two if practice had particularly sucked for Kuroko, (or if Kagami pestered him enough because he still couldn’t understand how he seemed to live off that shit alone but if Kuroko seemed adamant about it Kagami could at least make sure he had more than one) then dragging themselves to the nearest court (because it looked like they might both be masochists) playing some really disgusting basketball (seriously, grade schoolers could probably wipe the floor with them at that point) and then usually parting ways to their respective living abodes—had turned into an overnight thing, with Kuroko more often than not following Kagami home and practically crashing on his couch as soon as they got to his apartment.

All this with mama Kuroko’s blessing, because it seemed like one well-cooked curry pot had been enough for her to trust that Kagami wouldn’t let Kuroko die of starvation the next day. Well that and because as Kuroko had told him as they walked to a Maji burger some time much later— after he  already knew Kuroko’s history with Aomine later,

“My mom says she’s glad I found such a good friend again, and that at least this one can take care of himself, and by extension me it seems, instead of being an even more hopeless case than I am apparently.”

With as straight of a face that Kuroko always had on,  all while Kagami had been left a little behind to sputter (in embarrassment?), only to have Kuroko tell him to keep up because he was hungry and _that_ was enough of shocker to bring Kagami out of his stupor and jog a bit to catch up.

Still, as they continued their walk, it didn’t take an idiot to figure out who his mother had been talking about (because only Aomine seemed like he would be more of a moron when it came to taking care of himself than Kuroko) and Kagami was honestly a little hesitant about Kuroko’s mother thinking that they were on the same level of friendship that Kuroko and Aomine had been, or that Kuroko had nonchalantly told him that his mother thought they were. Did that mean that by extension Kuroko thought so too?  Would he even had said anything if they weren’t? But they weren’t even on a first name basis, like Aomine had been with Kuroko, although it seemed weird for Kuroko to call anyone by their first name; he still called Aomine, Aomine-kun after all.

His musings, however, had only lasted until they had sat down with their food, and all his thoughts were promptly shoved to the back of his mind as he had bit into his first burger. Call him simple minded, but there was no worry that a well-cooked and cholesterol heightening burger—that  was the closest thing to the ones at this little family owned burger joint he used to frequent in LA—could wipe from his mind.

And so, his and Kuroko’s late night Maji pit stops and exhausted basketball playing detours had turned into two day things, sometimes, even whole weekend things.  And Kuroko’s mother was completely okay with that, because on weeks that Kuroko would show up home only until Mondays, he always came back perfectly intact and well fed. As long as that kept happening, well then, Mama Kuroko—with her long pale blue hair (although a shade or two darker than Kuroko’s ), with the smile lines around her mouth and the barely their crow’s feet at the corner of  her eyes (that were the _exact_ copy of Kuroko’s even down to the shape) and with her cheerful and completely open and talkative demeanor ( open enough that if it wasn’t for the hair and the eyes Kagami would seriously question if Kuroko wasn’t really adopted)—seemed like she would keep Kagami in her good graces. She kept sending him little trays full of desserts and sweets, via Kuroko, all with little notes attached to them that usually said something along the lines of “Thank you for not letting my son die, goodness know he wouldn’t do it himself if no one else did :)” all while Kuroko sat on his couch with an inscrutable face as if he didn’t know (or care) that his mother thought of Kagami as some sort of Keeper of the Kuroko Tetsuya.

Kagami didn’t know how he particularly felt about that, but as long as he got free and already cooked food out of it what the hell, he wasn’t going to complain (deep in his head he knew that it wasn’t just the food, but he had _some_ pride left).

And so all of that was why (besides being an idiot) Kagami was currently seated (like a creeper) on a decrepit old bench that he was only _pretty_ sure wouldn’t break under his weight, but which was indeed hidden from view of the two teenagers currently playing basketball at the other end of the park, under some streetlights that flickered every few minutes in the cool night air, but that never let the court be in shadows completely.

They were not, however, the reason Kagami had himself questioning his life choices (no that would be the more rational (and healthy) part of his brain, thank you very much); because seriously what the fuck was he doing, he couldn’t even hear what they were saying for god’s sake. He was close enough that he could see their mouths moving continuously in conversation, but far enough away that he’d have no chance in hell to listen in on what they were saying.  

And that should not be a cause for disappointment.  

It wasn’t any of his business what the hell they spoke of anyway, not when it probably had to do with their shared past.

A past that he had no part in.

Kagami grimaced—eyes  glued to the old court where Kuroko and Aomine were still doing nothing but idly shooting hoops—and found himself wondering, not for the first time, what the Aomine Kuroko knew as a child was like.  

From the little Kuroko had told him, he imagined him to be someone who’s eyes lit up in excitement as he played, someone who had a permanent smile on their face and not like the ones Aomine had aimed at Kagami on the court of their last game. No, those had been more like leers than smiles, and they were so wide and so…unnatural, even to Kagami,  who’s contact with Aomine had been so very brief up to that point (and even now), that he had wondered how they didn’t crack Aomine’s face in half. He imagined he would be someone who would let that…gentle…look on his face that he had aimed at Kuroko after the buzzer had sounded and he had just stood there looking dazed, a lot more often….

But his thoughts on Aomine Daiki were abruptly cut short as he and Kuroko finally strayed from their shooting hoops and talking routine that had been ongoing for the past 10 minutes.

Things took a turn for the curious as he watched Aomine keep the ball dribbling in his left hand while he turned towards Kuroko, the angle of the bench to the court making it so he could see both their profiles clearly.

A beat passed before Kuroko walked up to Aomine, so close that they were less than an arms-length away, and Kagami watched as Kuroko’s lips moved in a very short statement, watched as Aomine tensed, watched as his hand completely missed the returning ball and it bounced away behind him.

And this had Kagami immediately sitting up ram-rod straight; much to the bench’s alarming and creaking displeasure, because even with his limited knowledge of Aomine Daiki, he knew that anything that could shock him away from being subconsciously attuned to a basketball had to be something _huge._ And he had a (bad) feeling that he was going to be proven right in the next few moments.

He was.

He watched as Kuroko extended a hand up to Aomine’s chest, palm flat against the taller man, watched as he kept it there and a huge smile (at least in Kuroko standards) broke across his face, one that Kagami had only ever seen on Kuroko after they won a game.

Watched as the smile stayed in place even as Aomine, with such an unsure look and still frozen, said something in return. Watched as Kuroko answered, watched as Aomine’s face slowly unfroze from shock and melted into a look so damn _soft_ that it had nothing on the one Kagami had seen at their last game. Watched as that look morphed into a smile so bright and dripping with relief that it almost hurt to look at (and that, Kagami thought, was the type of bright smiles he imagined child Aomine to always have on).

Watched as Kuroko’s own smile widened in return, kept watching – _against your better judgment_ , his subconscious chided, _this looks like it will only lead to pain for you buddy—_ as Aomine slowly extended a hand up to cup Kuroko’s cheek, as he leaned down and……

_HOLY FUCK THEY’RE GOING TO KISS!_

_I SHOULD NOT BE WATCHING THIS._

But Kagami’s psyche seemed to fall on metaphorical deaf ears, because he knew nothing short of the apocalypse would tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding in front of him (and wasn’t that a sad thought, he really  _was_ a masochist).

But they didn’t, kiss that is.

Kagami watched as all Aomine did was lower his forehead down to Kuroko’s, closing is eyes in content, his smile changing into something infinitely warmer. Watched as the hand that wasn’t the one Kuroko still had attached to Aomine’s chest came up and settled over the one Aomine had on his cheek.

And Kagami kept watching as they stayed like that for a few more minutes, minutes that seemed to stretch on eternally really, ( _oh stop being dramatic,_ the more rational part of his mind snapped at his romantic one—ROMANTIC, Kagami Taiga had a romantic side?!? _Seems so,_ his subconscious supplied sarcastically).

He watched as Kuroko finally said something which had Aomine jumping back so quickly he almost tripped backwards, a blush on his face (A BLUSH ON THE FACE OF AOMINE FUCKING DAIKI) and a hand coming up to rub the back of his head sheepishly. But Kuroko’s smile didn’t falter and his shoulders shook softly with the silent and completely poor excuse of laughter that was the only thing that Kuroko seemed possible of producing.

He was still laughing as he trotted to the end of the court to pick up the momentarily forgotten basketball, tossing it to Aomine who seemed to gather enough of his wits finally to manage to catch it, albeit a little jerkily.

And when Kuroko started heading towards the exit, pausing only when he realized Aomine wasn’t following, turning around in time to see Aomine jump in realization and hurriedly catch up, Kagami took this as his cue to start hightailing it the hell out of there.

He had already jumped up rather suddenly (again to a cacophony of creaks and groans of the wood underneath him) making a hasty grab for his gym bag that he had left by his feet, preparing himself to start sprinting should the two boys head his way.

They didn’t, though, and Kagami thanked whatever deity that was no doubt having such a blast with his creeperish misfortune that it had probably taken pity on him and decide that on top of Kagami realizing how much of a creeper he really was when he couldn’t manage to give his friends(?) (did he and Aomine even count as friends?) the privacy they had obviously wanted and then ogling them as they almost kissed, that They also _mercifully_ weren’t going to make him run blindly across the park in the semi-darkness like a maniac from the two people he was stalking and hope to god he didn’t step in a pothole in the grass and twist an ankle.

Nope, Kagami was saved as Kuroko and Aomine decided to walk in the opposite direction, causing him to shakily exhale a breath he had been holding as he dropped his bag back to the ground and practically collapsed back onto the bench in a puddle of relief.

And really it was a miracle the poor bench didn’t really break this time because it let out such a loud crack that Aomine actually flinched at the sound, swiveling his head to look around, leaving Kagami to give thanks _again_ that the pair was already across the street on the other block because as Aomine looked around Kagami was about 99.9% sure that all he saw was darkness.

And all Kagami could do was lean back into the bench (its creaks barely noticeable to him now that Kuroko and Aomine had turned a corner and were blessedly out of earshot) lean his head back and stare at the _barely_ star studded sky thanks to the city lights.

Stare and wonder what the fuck this was going to affect because as much as he was sure that his subconscious was trying to tell him something ( _it had said something about pain??)_ as to why the fuck he had become a stalker for an evening, and why the fuck the sight of Kuroko and Aomine so close to kissing had done some weird shit to his brain, and why the _absolute fuck_ he felt like pretending this never happened while simultaneously wanting to corner his fellow basketball players into a metaphorical corner a turn (jab, violently jab) an accusing and reproachful finger at them _both._

_Reproachful for what!_

Kagami let out a growl, head falling into his hands as he tried to work his thoughts into some sort of order that would actually make sense.

Head still in his hands, his eyes darted in between the wedges of his fingers to his gym bag on the floor, to the barely visible circular bump on one side.

 _Fuck it,_ he thought with another frustrated exhale as he picked up the bag and finally left the still thoroughly complaining, barely standing bench.

He turned his body to the dimly lit court.

There was, after all, times when only the lone thumping of a basketball on pavement could bring you solace.   

**Author's Note:**

> I'm listing this as complete for now but I do have a few ideas swimming around in my head for a second chapter. So I might update this at some point in the future, just probably not soon, considering I have another multi-chapter fic that I really should have been working on instead of this.....
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and feedback is welcome!


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